Hidden Talent
by Lizahd
Summary: My "friend" (okay, my archenemy, but you get the point. It's someone I know.) learns that maybe he good guys do win more. Note: I do not recommend trying to figure this out if you haven't been to my web site. PG-13 for swearing.
1. Caecus Durus

Grumpily, he dodged Peony and took a seat by his friend, Draco Malfoy.  
"Peony Mowbray likes you," Draco said, his eyes sparkling in amusement.  
"You're a genius, Draco, a genius," he retorted, posing his spoon on the side of the bowl in the position needed to flick food at someone.  
"Defendere!" Draco grinned as a dark shadow spread over his body. "I'm rubber, and you're glue, whatever you throw bounces off me and sticks to you. Literally. So no throwing porridge, Werdna."  
"Cool," Andrew said, dropping his spoon and inspecting the shadow. "Is that Dark Magic?"  
"Nah," said Draco sadly. "But more advanced shields are, to some degree," He added, cheering slightly.  
"Awesome," Remarked Crabbe dully. Crabbe was one of Draco's friends, who was in his fifth year like Draco. Andrew didn't like Crabbe very much. He was one of the ass-kissers that were the overwhelming majority of Slytherin house.  
"Argh!" shrieked Draco, as porridge flew everywhere. Andrew was jerked out of his reverie. "I told you to keep your bloody owl in your own porridge bowl!" Draco bellowed, but was too funny looking in his suit of porridge to be intimidating. Andrew burst out laughing. Several other people did, too. He saw Ron Weasley at the Gryffindor table stand up in his chair to get a good look at Draco.  
Glancing at the teacher's table to make sure they weren't looking, Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at Andrew's throat. "Caecus Durus!"  
Andrew stopped laughing. In fact, he could hardly breathe. He couldn't move, either. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Weasley fell off his chair, still laughing at Draco. The milk jug landed on his head.  
While this was happening, Draco spun around, pointing his wand suggestively at the remaining Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff laughers, who quieted instantly, seeing Andrew's fate. Draco then turned on the Gryffindor table, but they were busy trying to get the milk jug off Ron's head. "Paenitentia," he said casually, flicking his wand in Andrew's direction. Andrew took a thankful gulp of air.  
"What was that?" He inquired.  
"Dark Magic," said Draco simply, putting his wand in his pocket. 


	2. Love Letters and Soggy Owls

Chapter Two  
Love Letters and Soggy Owls  
  
Remembering the cause of the commotion, Andrew fished the soggy owl out of Draco's porridge. He propped Herald (the owl) against his goblet, and tore open the envelope.  
Scanning the letter, he immediately ripped it up and put the shredded letter back into Draco's oatmeal.  
"They're thinking about putting it as a new unforgivable curse. It can kill someone," Draco was saying. For Crabbe's benefit, he added, "It depresses breathing to some extent--" He stopped, seeing the look on Andrew's face. "What? What did your letter say?" Andrew just shook his head and put his head in his hands. Draco continued, "and you also can't see or hear or move at all."  
"I could see and hear fine," Andrew argued.  
"Yeah, sure, kiddo," Draco laughed. 


	3. Snitches, Bludgers, and Quaffles

A/N: Jordan says a VERY bad word in this, and as I had this listed as PG-13, I decided to change it to a blank. You get the gist of it, though.  
  
Andrew's stomach churned. His first Quidditch match! He had just been recruited this year, as a Chaser. They were playing against Gryffindor. Oh, God, oh God.  
Dustin Butler, the smallest boy on the team (surprisingly, he was a Chaser instead of a Seeker), peeked out at the crowd. "Blimey!" He exclaimed, "The whole school's out there!"  
'What's your problem? Afraid of a crowd?" Asked Draco cooly, but Andrew realized he was probably nervous. Slytherins didn't show their emotions. Well, Dustin was an exception.  
"Shut up, Malfoy," retorted Dustin, reddening.  
"Oooh, good comeback!" cried one of the Beaters, named Bole.  
"SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!" Hollered Andrew. "If you get into a fight and hurt each other, we'll have to forfeit! We'll lose the Cup!"  
"Chicken," someone mutter dismissively, but everyone shut up.  
"Aaand here's the Slytherin team!" cried Lee Jordan's voice from outside. Lee Jordan traditionally commentated, even though he was too old to go to Hogwarts anymore. Living close by, he still came for Quidditch matches.  
Grabbing his Nimbus 2001, he marched onto the field, heart thumping. Jordan's called out their names through his magic megaphone. " . . . Thayer, Butler, Hupp, Warrington, and Malllfffooy! Looks like they're going brawn over brain as usual! Hey I didn't mean it, Professor, I promise."  
"Mount your broomsticks!" called Madam Hooch.  
"And they're offf!" Lee screamed happily. "Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle–no, wait, Gryffindor–and back to Slytherin! Hupp of Slytherin possession!"  
Andrew sped towards the goal posts. He was almost there! He took aim and–BANG! A Bludger hit him from behind. He dropped the Quaffle.  
Angrily, he glanced around. Where was Jeanne? There she was, flirting with the Gryffindor Beater. Furious, he turned his attention back to the game.   
"Gryffindor in possession and–SCORE!" Lee whooped. A earsplitting roar burst from the Gryffindor crowd.  
Suddenly, Harry Potter, the Gryffindor Seeker, zoomed past him at nothing less then 150 MPH. "Blimey!" he shouted, annoyed. "Watch where you're going, you nearly took my ear off!" Draco followed Harry, nearly taking off his other ear.  
"Has Potter seen the Snitch?" Lee asked himself excitedly, watching Potter and Draco eagerly. "Oh . . . it's just a Wronski Feint. Didn't kill that Malfoy boy, either. A shame."  
Professor McGonagall, agreeing, didn't say anything.  
Gathering himself, he raced over to the Quaffle, which was sinking slowly in midair. The Gryffindor Chaser had dropped it when Jeanne and Warrington attacked him simultaneously–right in the face, too.  
Dustin reached the Quaffle first. "Oy, Warrington!" He cried, zooming towards the goal with Warrington following. The Gryffindor Beaters closed in on him. "Catch!" But instead of throwing it to Warrington, he tossed it below to Andrew instead.  
Thankful Dustin had let him get a bit of spotlight in his first match, he flew the rest of the way to the Gryffindor goal posts. He easily got past the Keeper, and--"  
"Goal to Slytherin!" Lee Jordan fumed. "First one of those I've seen in awhile, the Slytherin team plays like Kindergartners,"  
"JORDAN!"  
"Sorry, Professor,"  
Andrew felt something run into his head. It was too small to be a Bludger–"Snitchnip!" called Madam Hooch, the referee.  
"That was accidental!" He protested.  
"Sorry," she said, not looking very sorry, "Penalty to Gryffindor!" She called, as the Snitch disappeared again.  
As the Gryffindor team took the penalty, Andrew wondered if the Snitch could be favoring the Gryffindor side.  
"TWENTY TO TEN!" Lee yelled happily, as the Chaser made it past the Slytherin Keeper. "_____ Slytherins!"  
"JORDAN!"  
There was a prompt fight. Lee got the mike for a second, and had time to yell, "Harry's gotten the Snitch! 170 to ten!" Before McGonagall wrestled the megaphone from his grasp.  
  
After the match, he changed into his regular robes and started to walk towards the castle. Noticing some lingerers on the field, he did a double take and looked to see if Draco happened to be there.  
Draco wasn't, but a pretty girl was. What was her name again? Oh, yeah, Cho Chang. She played for Ravenclaw as Seeker. He sighed as he saw Potter was flirting with her. The good ones were always taken.  
The other denizen of the field was another girl, not nearly as pretty. She watched Potter and Chang a little way off, looking lonely.  
He walked onto the field. "What's the matter?"  
She jumped. "Oh! Oh . . . nothing,"  
"Something is,"  
She looked at him funny. "Aren't you in Slytherin?"  
"Yeah,"  
"Then why do you care what's bothering me?"  
"I–erm–well, I really should be in another house. I wanted to be in Slytherin so badly, though. So that's where the Sorting Hat put me. It . . . er, it wanted to put me in Gryffindor," he blushed down to the roots of his hair.  
"You act like that's a bad thing," said the girl, looking slightly hurt.  
"Draco–do you know Draco?–he said Gryffindor was the worst house, like worse than Hufflepuff,"  
"Yes, I do know Draco," her eyes flashed. "I know him very well."  
He expected her to continue, but she didn't. The silence lasted a full minute or so.  
"Do you want to walk around the lake?" He burst suddenly, to break the quiet.  
"Oh! Oh . . . sure," she said, pointedly turning to leave. Pointedly, Potter concentrated on talking to Cho.  
He glanced between them, amused, but didn't say anything.  
They walked around the lake for awhile, in silence.  
Andrew stared at the lake for a bit. "Do you know Peony Mowbray?" he asked suddenly.  
This is the reason the lake made him think of Peony Mowbray. 


	4. The Peony Mowbray Disaster

"No more'n three to a boat!" yelled the great hairy giant, taking a whole canoe for himself. The boat bobbed and let at least an inch worth of water flow inside.  
Andrew sat down in a boat with a couple burly Slytherin-looking kids. "Hi," he said awkwardly, grabbing a paddle. Just then, Peony Mowbray came over. "I'm sitting there," she said, pushing Andrew into the water.  
Andrew had never excelled in swimming. He bobbed for a second and then sank, the last thing he saw before going under was Peony's scared face. He took it she hadn't meant to push him underwater.  
  
Just when he thought he wouldn't live another minute without oxygen a weird tentacle thing pushed him up towards the surface.  
Rubbing his eyes and looking around, he saw the canoes floating towards the castle. In a sudden anger, he realized that Peony hadn't even asked the hairy man for help. How chicken, he thought. She'd rather risk his life than her good reputation with the teachers.  
The only option seemed to be to try to swim to the castle. He did a odd version of the dog paddle for a few feet, than gave up and treaded water. The castle seemed so far away. Something brushed his foot, and he remembered the tentacle. Suddenly he freaked out and kicked frantically, propelling him speedily.  
About an half-hour later, he decided there was no way he could keep this up. He was famished, not having eaten anything but a Chocolate Frog since breakfast, and he was tired. He floated on his back.  
  
Andrew woke up in the complete dark of night. He had washed up on the shore of a forest, not at all where he wanted to be at nighttime. "You're a Slytherin, or you're gonna be one, at least, so you gotta be tough." He told himself, then felt stupid for talking to himself.  
Suddenly he heard a rustling in the bushes beside him. Then a black, shadow like thing rose over him, and covered him like a blanket. Feeling like he was suffocating for the second time in a few hours, he fought its grasp and managed to get free, but just barely.  
Running for his life (literally), he realized it wasn't a great idea to run around in forests while it was pitch black. Fumbling around, he managed to find his way on to a path. And then he ran into something–or someone.  
"Oof!" said the someone (he knew it was the latter because it talked).  
A match lighted and he was staring into the face of a giant man. "What're ya doin' out here? We've been lookin' all over fer ya. Ya must be Andra Hupp."  
"Yeah, that's me." he said. "I was pushed out of the boat by Peony. I just now got on shore."  
Hagrid was listening. "Headmaster's gonna be furious ya ran off like thet."  
"But--"  
"No buts about it, c'mon. Now."  
And so Andrew got in trouble for that. Nobody seemed to want to listen to his story. And then they brought the hat so he could be sorted.  
Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin, please, Slytherin. He thought.  
Slytherin? Responded the hat. You should be in Gryffindor. I don't know if the Slytherins would take kindly to you anyway, since you're not a pureblood.  
Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin, please, Slytherin.  
Fine, whatever. said the hat unhappily. But you're going to regret your decision.  
Thanks. He thought, grinning at his good fortune.  
And that was how he got sorted.  
And back to the story. 


	5. Hermione Granger

"Everybody knows Peony Mowbray," The girl said. Andrew didn't say anything, so she continued. "She's pretty, she's smart . . . she's also a brat. She should be a Slytherin,"  
"Me and Peony should switch houses," he joked.  
"No, you should be in Gryffindor," she argued. "I mean, you thought I was pretty, didn't you? And you came to talk to me. That's brave."  
"Erm–actually I just thought you looked lonely."  
She looked at him funny, then burst out laughing. "Whatever house you should be in, it's not Slytherin!"  
There was silence for a bit.  
"What year are you in?" she asked finally.  
"My third," he said, "But I only just got recruited to the Quidditch team,"  
"I'm in my sixth . . . . You're a very good player. I wish Harry hadn't gotten the Snitch again. Let Draco get it for once. Harry is getting bigheaded." She gazed back at him and Cho. As if making up her mind, she said suddenly, "Do you have a girlfriend?"  
"No," he liked the way this conversation was going. With luck, he'd kill two birds with one stone: he'd get a girlfriend, and he'd get rid of Peony.  
"Well," she said, turning red, "Well, I don't have a boyfriend,"  
"Okay," he said, to save her the trouble of finishing. Yippee! He'd make sure to flaunt it at breakfast, and hopefully Peony'd get the point.  
Hermione was thinking, Well, I've killed two birds with one stone! I've got Harry back for being so mean, and I have a boyfriend! Yippee! I'll make sure to flaunt it at breakfast, and maybe Harry'll get the point.  
"Well," she said, "We'd better go inside, everyone'll be wondering where we've went,"  
"Wait!" he said, "I just thought over something. We don't even know each other's name."  
She laughed. "Oh, I forgot! I'm Hermione Granger," she said warmly.  
He looked at her blankly. "Could you pronounce your first name again?" 


	6. In the Great Hall

"Her-my-own-nee," she pronounced carefully.  
"Her-my-own-nee," Andrew repeated.  
They were in the Great Hall eating breakfast. Hermione had come to eat with him. Draco was sitting across the table, a few chairs down, watching them suspiciously.  
"Great!" she said enthusiastically. "Now say it fast. Hermione."  
"Hermy--hermi–arrgh!"  
She grinned. Every single one of her boyfriends in the past few years had major problems pronouncing her name. Except for Ron, of course. But he didn't count–they had been boyfriend and girlfriend for a total of 193 minutes, and then he had run away. "Good enough."  
"Okay, Hermiarrgh, would you pass the pumpkin juice?" Andrew was in a very good mood. Peony was looking as though she'd never speak to him again. With luck, she wouldn't.  
See, Peony had done more things then just try to drown him. She had stolen his money, annoyed him the whole trip to Hogwarts, called him a Mudblood (he wasn't sure what that was, but it sounded bad), put a full body bind curse on him–and that was just the first day he'd met her . . . but that was another story.  
Draco scooted down so he was sitting across from them. "Why is she sitting here?"  
"This is Hermione," Andrew introduced.  
"I know who she is," Draco snarled. "Why is she sitting here?"  
"Because she's my girlfriend,"  
Draco choked. "What? Are you nuts? She's in Gryffindor!"  
"So?" he said uncertainly.  
"She's friends with Potter! She's a Mudblood, too!"  
"What's a Mudblood?" he asked.  
Hermione, who had been being very quiet, burst, "You know what I think a Mudblood is? A Mudblood is someone with bad blood in them. You're the Mudblood."  
"How dare you?" he snarled.  
"And why do you have to order him around all the time? He shouldn't be in Slytherin, even. The Sorting Hat wanted to put him in Gryffindor!"  
He sank in his chair. "Why'd you have to tell him that?"  
Hermione wasn't listening. "And you know what? You know what?" She was shrieking now, and everyone was staring at them. Andrew sank lower in his chair. Even the teachers were watching, although they didn't seem to want to try intercepting. Hermione continued, oblivious to them. "You know what? He's a Mudblood, too!"  
Draco suddenly turned red with anger. "You never told me you were a Mudblood!"  
"I don't even know what a Mudblood is," he protested.  
Draco wasn't listening either. "I never would have been your friend! You know what? You should have been in Gryffindor!"  
"Yes, he should have been!" and with this, Hermione turned on her heel and left. 


End file.
